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The Wheels of Time 


I 

i 






i 


The Wheels 
of Time 


By 

Florence L. Barclay 

Author of The Rosary^^ and ** The Mistress of 
Shenstone" 


i 

\J 

\ ILLUSTRATED BY R. G, VOSBURGH 


New York 

Thomas Y, Crowell & Co. 


Publishers 



Copyright, 1908, 1910, 

By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 


©CLAa7l229^l 


/ 




To one woman who said 
“/ go not^'* but after- 
wards repented and went 


i 

1 


i 


1 


Illustrations 


** Flower/* he said, **my lovely fra- 
grant Flower ! ** Cover 

OPP. PAGE 

** Good old Jane/* she said. ** I do en- 
joy talking to you ** 38 

You are not much use at answering ques- 
tions, darling, are you?** . . . 72 

“Oh, Flower! You cared like this?** . 92 






The Wheels of Time 


I 


I 


\ 

1 



The Wheels of Time 

T he doctor stood, with his 
hand on the doorknob, and 
gave a final look back into his 
wife’s boudoir. 

There was nothing in that room 
suggestive of town or of town life and 
work — delicate green and white, a 
mossy carpet, masses of spring flowers; 
cool, soft, noiseless, fragrant. 

Standing in the doorway the doctor 
could hear the agitated clang of the 
street-door belb Stoddart crossing the 
hall; the opening and closing of the 
door, and Stoddart’s subdued and 
sympathetic voice saying: Step this 
way, please.” A heavy, depressed 
foot or an anxious, hurried one, ac- 
[II] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


cording to the mental condition of its 
owner, obeyed ; and the shutting of the 
library door meanj: another patient 
added to the number of those who 
were already listlessly turning over 
the pages of bound volumes of Punch 
or scrutinizing with unseeing eyes the 
Landseer engraving over the mantel- 
piece. 

In former days the waiting-room 
used to be the doctor’s dining-room, 
but before he married his pretty wife 
she put her foot down firmly on this 
question. He had been explaining 
the Wimpole Street house and its ar- 
rangements as they stood together in 
her sunny rose-garden. 

“But, Deryck,” she had exclaimed 
in dismay, waving her hands at him, 
full of a great mass of freshly gath- 
ered roses, “ I could not possibly sit 
[ 12 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


down and dine with you in a room 
where your horrible patients have sat 
waiting for hours, leaving behind 
them the germs of all their nasty, in- 
fectious diseases!” 

The doctor caught the little hands, 
roses and all, and held them against 
his breast, looking down into her face 
with laughing eyes. 

Flower,” he said, “ my lovely, fra- 
grant Flower! Am I doing a foolish 
thing in attempting to transplant you 
into the soil of busy London life? 
Should I not do better if I left you in 
your rose-garden? Ah, well, it is too 
late to ask that now; I can’t leave 
Wimpole Street, and” — his voice, al- 
ways deep, suddenly thrilled to a 
deeper depth; a tenderness of strong 
passion quivered in it — “ I can’t live 
without you.” He let go her hands 
[ 13] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


and framed her upturned face in his 
strong, brown fingers. 

“ What have you done to me, 
Flower? I was always self-contained 
and self-sufficing, and now I find I 
can’t live without you, Flower — my 
Flower.” 

His eyes glowed down into her face. 
She looked up sweetly at him. 

‘‘ But, Deryck,” she said, “ they do 
leave the germs of all their nasty in- 
fectious — ” 

The doctor’s hands fell suddenly to 
his sides. 

My dear child,” he said, and his 
voice instantly regained its usual even- 
ness of tone, “ have I not told you that 
I am a mind specialist? The people 
who come to my consulting-room are 
not, as a rule, suffering from measles, 
scarlet fever, or smallpox!” 

[14] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

“Oh, well, they leave their dread- 
ful morbid thoughts behind them; 
and that is worse. I could not dine 
in a room where diseased minds have 
sat for hours, brooding. It would 
give me creeps. And oh, Deryck, 
you know that stupid article you read 
me the other day, about how mental 
impressions, when a mind was highly 
strung or unbalanced, could leave an 
impress upon walls or furniture — ex- 
plaining ghost stories, you know? — I 
forget who wrote it. . . . You did? 
My dear boy, how clever of you! . . . 
Oh, no! How can you say I called it 
‘stupid’? Or if I did, I meant ‘in- 
teresting,’ of course. See how well I 
remembered it, though you thought I 
was not listening, because I had to 
keep counting the stitches in the heels 
of your golf stockings, you ungrateful 

[15] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


man ! And I am certain you are right 
about horrible thoughts sticking to 
furniture. And however well Stod- 
dart arranged the room he couldn’t 
sweep them away, and we should sit 
at dinner surrounded by them — oh, 
Deryck, surrounded! 

Her lovely eyes looked widely at 
him, over the gathered roses. 

The doctor laughed. It is so easy 
for a man to laugh before mar- 
riage. 

All right. Flower,” he said. 
‘‘There is nothing like convincing a 
fellow with his own arguments. We 
will remodel the house. I’ll talk it 
over with Hunt. You shall have din- 
ing-room, drawing-room, and boudoir, 
all on the first floor, and I and my 
freaks will have the run of the ground 
floor. You will need only to pass 

[i6] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


through the hall to go in and out of 
the house. So, if they drop their poor 
minds about, you will not come across 
them. Now, choose me that promised 
buttonhole, and then let us come down 
to the stream. I don’t like a rose-gar- 
den when half of the windows of the 
house overlook it!” 

This was seven years ago, and it now 
sometimes seemed to Dr. Brand as if 
his tall Wimpole Street house repre- 
sented in its stories the various portions 
of the human anatomy; absolutely 
distinct in themselves, but held to- 
gether and kept going by the brain; 
the ever-busy brain controlling all. 

His wife’s apartments on the first 
floor; his life with her there, into 
which his professional interests were 
so rarely allowed to intrude; certainly 
they represented the heart of things; 

[17] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


the man’s whole heart rested and cen- 
tred there. 

The floor above was given up to 
the nurseries, and there, already, two 
pairs of little feet pattered ceaselessly, 
and merry voices shouted clear and 
gleeful, and a little flower-faced girl 
peeped down at him through the bal- 
ustrade, and a small boy, gazing ear- 
nestly with dark, steadfast eyes into 
the interior of a jumping rabbit which 
refused to jump, reproduced absurdly 
his own intent professional manner. 

In the basement were the kitchens, 
and he was as ignorant of them as, he 
reflected with a smile, every perfectly 
healthy man should be of the digestive 
organs of his own anatomy. 

Then on the ground floor, between 
the life below-stairs and the life above, 
but generating the needful supplies 

[i8] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


to keep the whole establishment going, 
dwelt the Brain — his brain, his untir- 
ing, ever-growing capacity for hard 
work, represented by his consulting- 
room, where so many strenuous hours 
were spent, and the old dining-room, 
now called the library, where an ever- 
increasing number of patients waited 
daily. This floor of his life was prac- 
tically unshared by any, excepting the 
faithful and punctilious old butler, 
whose monotonous Step this way, 
sir,” “ Please to step this way, ma’am,” 
served to punctuate the departure of 
one case and the arrival of the next 
Sometimes the desire to share the 
interest of this ever-varying daily 
work with another, gripped him in the 
throes of its human necessity. When 
his deep, penetrating eyes had been 
long bent upon the shifting, shuffling 

[ 19] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

mind of a patient, at last piercing with 
tender mercilessness to the very core 
of that mind’s malady; when his quick 
brain had grasped the case in all its 
bearings, and his magnificent will- 
power had compelled the shaken soul 
to see things as he saw them, to believe 
things as he believed them, to face the 
future as the future alone could rightly 
be faced; when his inspiring enthu- 
siasm and belief in God and life and 
human nature had set that mental crip- 
ple on his feet or loosed the bands 
which had bound some poor daugh- 
ter of Abraham, — lo, these eighteen 
years”; when, conducted by Stoddart’s 
mechanical “ Step this way,” they 
passed out from his consulting-room to 
tread with new hopes the path of a 
new life, he would stride to his win- 
dow, squaring his shoulders, and tak- 
[ 20 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


ing in a deep breath of fresh air, he 
would say: ‘^God, what a victory! I 
must tell Flower.” 

But once in Flower’s boudoir, with 
a dainty china teacup in his hand and 
a muffin on his knee, hearing the bliss- 
ful details of Blossom’s new syllable, 
or Dicky’s latest development, or 
Flower’s own triumphal progress 
through the Park in the new motor-car, 
somehow the ‘story of the strenuous 
fight, the hopeful victory, seemed out 
of place. This was the home of feel- 
ing; thought must not intrude. This 
was the domain of trivialities ; the 
great issues of life must hide in the 
background. This was the home of 
the Heart; the Brain must abide 
below. 

Yet matrimony and motherhood had 
done much to deepen Flower. The 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


linking with his nature; the having 
perforce to awaken in order ^to meet 
and satisfy the deep needs of his 
overmastering love; the constant ex- 
ample of his unselfish nobility, single- 
ness of purpose, and high ideal of life; 
and, above all, the pangs and joys of 
motherhood ; all these had made of the 
wilful, wayward little Flower of the 
rose-garden, a sweet and gracious wo- 
man ; in. outward face and form more 
exquisite than ever, and in the hidden 
part an awakening soul, which needed 
only an hour of deep agony, a tearing 
away of the flimsy veil of selfishness 
and conventionality now stifling it, to 
bring it to the birth. 

But that time of pain and stress came 
not to Flower, because the strong, 
shielding love of a man was always 
around her, and his care warded off 
[ 22 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


the very thing which alone could have 
brought about his comfort and her 
completion. And yet he was dimly 
conscious of a gradual growth in her, 
and sometimes, half wistfully, he 
called her ‘^Mary,” that name so sa- 
cred to perfect motherhood, and which 
had seemed such an incongruous gift 
from her sponsors, to his Flower of 
the rose-garden. 

On this particular morning, when 
the doctor stood at the door looking 
into the boudoir, Flower was bending 
over a huge bowl of daffodils, arrang- 
ing each golden trumpet to her lik- 
ing. 

The spring sunshine came glancing 
through the window and touched her 
hair to the gold of the blossoms. The 
doctor noted this, and a sudden look 
[23] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


of adoration softened the cool clear- 
ness of his eyes. 

The baby’s godmother, on this last 
day of her visit, sitting by the fire with 
her feet on the fender, opening and 
smoothing a copy of the Times, 
glanced up, past the sunshine and the 
daffodils, saw that look and promptly 
retired behind a leading article. 

The baby’s godmother was a per- 
fectly beautiful woman in an abso- 
lutely plain shell, but, unfortunately, 
no man had yet looked beneath the 
shell and seen the woman herself in 
her perfection. She would have made 
earth heaven for a blind lover who, not 
having eyes for the plainness of her 
face or the massiveness of her figure, 
might have drawn nearer and appre- 
hended the wonder of her as a woman ; 
experiencing the wealth of tenderness 
[24] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


of which she was capable, the blessed 
comfort of the shelter of her love, the 
perfect comprehension of her sym- 
pathy, the marvellous joy of winning 
and wedding her. But as yet no blind 
man with far-seeing vision had come 
her way, and it always seemed to be 
her lot to take a second place on occa- 
sions when she would have filled the 
first to infinite perfection. 

She had been bridesmaid at the doc- 
tor’s wedding, to whom she would have 
made a wife such as Flower, develop 
as she might, could never be. She 
was godmother to the baby — she 
whose arms ached for motherhood it- 
self and whose motherliness would 
have been a thing for men to kneel 
down and worship. She found her 
duties as godmother to various babies 
consisted chiefly in praying that the 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


foolish mistakes made by their parents 
might be overruled by an all-wise 
Providence and work out somehow to 
their ultimate good. 

She had a glorious voice; but her 
face, not matching it, its existence was 
rarely suspected; and as she accom- 
panied to perfection, she was usually 
in requisition to play for the singing 
of others. Only once, at a concert, 
where the principal songstress failed at 
the last moment, she volunteered to 
fill the empty place, and walked to the 
piano, when the moment came, in the 
double capacity of singer and accom- 
panist. How she ‘‘brought down the 
house” on this occasion, and how a 
blind man’s eyes were opened, belongs 
to another story. 

Meanwhile she was a woman of tact, 
and when she perceived how the doctor 
[26] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


was momentarily dazzled by the sun- 
light and the gold, she retired, ob- 
viously, behind the Times leader. 

Darling,” said the doctor, ‘‘ I am 
wired for to Brighton, in consultation 
over a very important case. I must go 
down by an afternoon train, and I 
doubt if I can get back to-night.” 

‘‘How tiresome, DeryckI It is 
Myra’s reception this evening, and I 
promised to bring you with me. I 
shall hate going alone. However, I 
suppose it cannot be helped. Did you 
ever see such daffodils? It makes 
one long to be back in the woods at 
home.” 

The doctor hesitated. Downstairs 
the bell rang again, the hall door 
opened and closed, Stoddart said, “ Step 
this way, sir.” 

“ Flower,” said the doctor, “ I have 
[27] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


a jolly little plan for to-night. I want 
you to come to Brighton with me. We 
will put up at the Metropole and have 
a real good time. I ought to be able 
to get back to you there soon after 
seven, and we can have dinner and go 
on the pier afterwards and watch the 
moonlight on the sea. Or, if you pre- 
fer something more lively, there is a 
good concert on in the Dome. I will 
telephone for seats. It is a long while 
since we heard any music together.” 

He stopped rather breathlessly. 

The front doorbell rang again. 

The doctor’s wife took out a daffodil 
and replaced it to better advantage. 
Then she looked up with an exquisite 
smile. 

Dearest, you are so amusing with 
your sudden plans! It sounds delight- 
ful, of course. I love Brighton in 
[28] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


spring. I shall never forget driving 
along the King’s Road in the sunshine, 
with a huge bunch of violets on my 
muff. It was too heavenly! Early 
March, and the whole place seemed 
to sing of how summer was coming! 
But we cannot always do what we like. 
I must look in at Myra’s party, and I 
should really have thought you might 
have got back in time. If you ap- 
peared at eleven, it would do.” 

The doctor’s face, against the pale 
green woodwork of the door, suddenly 
looked rather worn and thin. 

“ I am afraid I could not get back. 
Flower,” he said. “ I may have to put 
in a second visit in the morning. And 
. — darling — I want you to-night. This 
case will be rather a strain. It will 
be just everything to have you down 
there to come back to. The moment 


[29] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


it is over I shall remember you are 
waiting for me.” 

The baby’s godmother looked up 
quietly over the Times, She had heard 
the tone in his voice and she saw on 
his face just what she expected to see. 
Notwithstanding his forty years, de- 
spite his brilliant powers, his ceaseless 
energy, he looked at that minute like 
a tired child, just needing to be gath- 
ered into a loving woman’s arms and 
hushed to rest. He was facing, before- 
hand, what he would be feeling after 
the strain was over. He was yearning 
for the love and companionship, dread- 
ing the solitude and loneliness. The 
baby’s godmother knew exactly what 
he needed. She awaited Flower’s* 
reply. 

“ Who is ‘ the case,’ Deryck? ” 

The doctor hesitated an instant, 
[30] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


then named a name so widely known 
that the baby’s godmother bounded in 
her chair. 

My dear Deryck,” she cried, ‘‘ if 
you are successful there, it means fame 
— world wide! Oh, what can we do 
to help? Must you see patients this 
morning? ” 

The doctor smiled. 

‘‘I must, Jeanette, unless you will 
see them for me. But work fits me for 
work. It is only after it is all over one 
feels a bit tired sometimes.” He 
looked at Flower. “Well, sweet? Can 
you be ready at two o’clock sharp?” 

“ Dear,” she said, “ I am so sorry, 
but I can’t see my way clear about go- 
ing with you to-day. If only it had 
been to-morrow! Nurse has asked to 
go out to tea and to stay the evening, 
and I promised to have the children 

[31] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


down longer than usual. Of course 
there is Emma, and Marsdon could 
help. But I should not feel easy about 
it. And I promised Dicky and Blos- 
som we would have all the stuffed ani- 
mals out and play menagerie. I never 
can feel it right to disappoint little 
children. And you know you often 
say to me yourself, ‘ If you have prom- 
ised them a thing, keep to it at all costs.’ 
Besides, there is Myra’s tiresome ‘at 
home ’ to consider. Really, Deryck, 
I don’t see how I can be away to- 
day.” 

“ All right. Flower,” the doctor said 
quietly. “ I am sorry I bothered you 
by proposing it. Don’t expect me up 
to lunch. Every moment will be full 
this morning. Stoddart will put some 
sandwiches in my bag. Good-bye.” 

The door closed behind him. They 
[32] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


heard his quick step on the stairs and 
the consulting-room door shut sharply. 

The baby’s godmother laid down the 
Times, folded her skirt back over her 
knees, and stirred the fire with her 
shoe. 

Flower sighed. 

“ Deryck really is trying,” she said. 

The baby’s godmother bit her lip. 
She had found that she could help the 
doctor’s wife best by never contradict- 
ing her. 

Very clever people usually are try- 
ing,” she remarked after a pause, “to 
those who have to live with them.” 

Flower wheeled round and looked 
at her. 

“ My good Jane, I don’t know what 
you mean! Deryck is perfect to live 
with, perfectl Have you stayed here 
ten days without finding that out? He 

[33 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


is only trying when he swoops down 
upon me with a sudden plan and ex- 
pects me to be ready to rush away with 
him at a moment’s notice. If he had 
let me know yesterday it might have 
been managed.” 

I gathered he only knew himself 
this morning.” 

That has nothing whatever to do 
with it. The crux of the whole matter 
is that I had promised nurse she should 
have the evening, and I cannot leave 
the children, with nurse away.” 

The baby’s godmother bent over the 
grate, took up the poker, and carefully 
built a little castle of molten coal in 
the very heart of the bright fire. Her 
hands looked strong and firm and very 
capable. Her face flushed as she bent 
over the glowing flame. 

The doctor’s wife, cool and dainty, 

[34 I 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

put masses of early white lilac into a 
tall crystal vase. 

Silence reigned. 

The clock struck eleven. 

Then the baby’s godmother laid 
down the fire-iron and began to speak, 
her hands clasped firmly around her 
large knees. 

Flower, when a man such as your 
husband wants you, you should leave 
everything — everything — to go to him. 
What are social engagements and ser- 
vants’ plans, ay, even children, com- 
pared with the needs of such a man as 
Deryck? Oh, my dear, couldn’t you 
hear the appeal in his voice? It was 
like the cry of a tired child in the dark, 
groping for its resting-place, which 
just wants lifting up into its mother’s 
arms and hushing to sleep. Strong 
man though he is — and I suppose you 

[35] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

and I can hardly realize how strong he 
is when coping with the great needs of 
others — he will always be a boy where 
he loves. He is so young in heart, 
so eternally, passionately young. He 
wants mothering just now. He is do- 
ing the work of three men, and doing 
it at high pressure. I hear of it from 
outside, as perhaps you cannot. And 
when the day is over he needs a place 
of rest — a tender, understanding place 
of rest, where he can talk or be silent, 
sleep or wake, as the fancy takes him, 
but where he will never be left alone 
to live again through the happenings 
of the day, too tired to escape them. 
And oh, Flower, you, and you alone, 
can do this for him. Shall I tell you? 
I know half-a-dozen women at least 
who would throw over social engage- 
ments, leave husbands, children, every- 
[36] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


thing, and go down to stay at Brighton 
or anywhere else on the chance of five 
minutes’ conversation with Deryck, or 
of his needing, at the moment, a com- 
rade and friend.” 

“Horrid creatures!” cried Flower, 
mockingly, “ their husbands ought to 
have something to say to them for run- 
ning after mine. I wonder a proper 
person like you, Jane, is not ashamed 
to talk of them. And you need not try 
to make me jealous. It is one of my 
theories that only small minds are jeal- 
ous. I have always stood far above the 
feeling.” 

“ I know, dear, I know,” said the 
baby’s godmother, hastily. “ I had not 
the faintest hope of making you jeal- 
ous. Besides, why should you be? 
Deryck has never looked twice at any 
woman but you. We all know that.” 

[37] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


Flower laid down her scissors and 
came and knelt on the hearthrug, mol- 
lified and a little wistful. She spread 
out her damp hands to the blaze and 
looked up into the baby’s godmother’s 
plain face, with a mischievous, inquis- 
itive smile. 

“Do you know, Jane,” she said, “ I 
have sometimes wondered — you seem 
to know each other so intimately — 
whether in the long-ago days, before 
he met me, Deryck ever proposed to 
you?” 

The baby’s godmother laughed, and 
again stirred the fire with her toe. 

“Well, my dear, you may rest as- 
sured he never did so, for the most con- 
clusive of all reasons, — I should not 
have refused him.” 

Flower laughed gaily. 

“Good old Jane,” she said. “I do 
[38] 



( i 


1 1 


“GOOD OLD JANE.” SHE SAID 


I DO ENJOY TALKING TO YOU 







T^IE WHEELS OF TIME 

enjoy talking to you, you are so deli- 
ciously unconventional.” Then more 
soberly, “ It is not fair that you should 
think I do not take proper care of 
Deryck and do not suffer during his 
absences. I go through perfect agonies 
of mind during the long hours of the 
night, when he is tearing down from 
Scotland by the mail train. I keep 
waking and thinking how bumpy it 
must be to lie along the seat of a rail- 
way carriage. He never will take a 
sleeper. And I lie and think of all the 
signal-men who hold his life in their 
hands, and hope they don’t drink.” 
Flower’s voice trembled with emotion. 
“ After reading about all those fearful 
railway smashes lately, I wrote on one 
of his visiting cards: In case of acci- 
dent, wire at once to Mrs. Deryck 
Brand, Wimpole Street, London, W. 

[39] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


I put it into his pocketbook, and it 
comforts me to know it is always 
upon him.” 

The lovely eyes of the doctor’s wife 
were wet. Her lashes glistened in 
the firelight. The baby’s godmother 
stooped and took up the poker, then 
laid it down again, unused. 

“Well, Flower,” she said at length, 
very deliberately, “and suppose an 
accident happened and they wired to 
you? What would you do?” 

“Do?” exclaimed the doctor’s wife, 
her lovely eyes dilating. “ Why, go to 
him, of course! ” 

“But suppose nurse happened to 
be out? Or you had people coming to 
tea? Or you had promised the chil- 
dren — ” 

“Jane, Jane, how odious you are! 
none of those things would matter, of 
[40] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


course. If he were hurt or ill, nothing 
could keep me from his side. I should 
not even stop to pack. I should fly 
. . . What? . * . . Well, I 
might let Marsdon pack a handbag, 
but I should certainly catch the first 
possible train.” 

The baby’s godmother stooped for 
the poker once more and this time she 
assaulted the dying embers vigorously, 
remarking in a muffled voice: ^^Yes, 
I think a handbag would be wise. De- 
cidedly, I would have Marsdon and a 
handbag in the programme.” Then, 
suddenly dropping the poker with a 
clatter, she caught Flower’s fluttering 
hands in hers and held them firmly, 
looking searchingly into her upturned 
face. 

‘‘Ah, child, child! You remind me 
of the story of a white rose-tree. Sit 
[41] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


down for five minutes while I tell it 
to you. 

“ Two friends of mine have a lovely 
little place in Hertfordshire. She — 
Sybel — takes a great delight in her 
garden, particularly in growing roses. 
They had one tiny girl of four years 
old, rightly named Angela — the sweet- 
est little angel-child I ever beheld. I 
ran down to them for one night last 
June. Sybel and I were having tea in 
the garden, close to a magnificent 
white rose-tree, a mass of fragrant bud 
and blossom. Sybel was very proud 
of it. Presently we heard little danc- 
ing feet down the gravel path behind 
us, and the baby-girl appeared. She 
stood gravely contemplating us at tea, 
not asking for anything. Sybel is a 
great disciplinarian. Suddenly the 
baby eyes fell upon the rose-tree, and a 
[42] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


wistful look of longing passed into 
them. She drew close to Sybel and 
looked pleadingly up into her face. 
‘Oh, mummie, they are so lubly! May 
I pick one of your roses? ’ ‘ Certainly 
not,’ said Sybel. ‘ How often am I to 
tell you, baby, that you are never to 
pick flowers in the garden! Run along 
to nurse, and don’t be troublesome.’ 

“The baby said no more, but I saw 
the little mouth droop and quiver. 
The small feet trailed slowly away 
over the grass, all the dance gone out 
of them, and Sybel gave me a long 
dissertation on the bringing up of chil- 
dren and the importance of checking 
their natural tendency to destructive- 
ness, my only reply being, I am afraid, 
‘What on earth is the good of a gar- 
den full of flowers if your own baby 
can’t gather and enjoy them!’ To 

[43] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


which Sybel made answer: ‘It is 
just as well, my dear Jane, that you re- 
main unmarried. You would hope- 
lessly spoil your children if you had 
any.’ 

“ With that we laughed and ceased 
sparring; for Sybel is a good sort and 
was a devoted mother, provided her 
little child pleased her in all things.” 

The baby’s godmother paused a mo- 
ment, as if mentally reviewing a scene 
and seeking for words in which to de- 
scribe it. Then she leaned forward, 
with her arms upon her knees and her 
hands clasped in front of her, and as 
she spoke, slowly and quietly, she kept 
her eyes fixed upon those firmly folded 
hands. 

“ Three weeks later I was wired for, 
to go back there and comfort a despair- 
ing, childless mother. 

[44] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


“When poor Sybel took me up to 
see the little body, it lay upon the bed, 
smothered in white roses — roses in the 
little hands, roses round the tiny feet, 
snowy petals framing the baby face, 
now whiter than the whitest rose. 
When I saw them, and when poor 
Sybel fell on her knees at the foot of 
the little bed and moaned in anguish 
of heart, I knew why she had sent for 
me. 

“‘Oh, Jane,’ she said, ‘Jane! You 
remember. She wanted one white 
rose, just one, and I would not let 
her have it. Oh, my baby, my 
baby!’ 

“ ‘ Sybel, dear,’ I said helplessly, 
‘ she has them all now.’ 

cried Sybel, in the most 
fearful accents of despair. ‘What 
good is it now? Ten thousand roses 

[45] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


strewn about her now are not worth the 
one gathered by her own little hand 
when she wanted it, which would have 
given her pleasure then. Too late! 
Too late! Oh, God, the wheels of 
time! Will they never move back- 
ward? Shall I never hear again my 
baby’s voice saying, “ Mummie, may 
I pick one of your roses? ” Oh, baby, 
speak to poor mummie and say you 
know you may have them all ! ’ 

“ But the little angel-face was calmly 
unresponsive, and the tiny marble 
hands so lightly clasped the rose stems 
that when the mother’s desperate weep- 
ing shook the bed, the roses those baby 
hands seemed holding, dropped from 
them and fell, unheeded. 

‘‘Ah, poor breaking heart! Love’s 
offering came too late.” 

The baby’s godmother still kept her 
[46] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


eyes on her folded hands. The doc- 
tor’s wife was crying softly. 

“Oh, Flower,” the deep, sad voice 
went on, “we are all apt to make the 
same terrible mistake. When our dear 
ones have passed beyond all ken of 
earthly pleasures, we send our costly 
wreaths of rarest flowers, striving thus 
to atone for having denied them the 
one simple blossom which was all they 
asked and needed. Let us learn to give 
our flowers now — now while they can 
hold them and have them; now, while 
they can scent their perfume and enjoy 
their beauty. Oh, child, give Deryck 
his white rose while he asks it of you. 
A man requires the instant fulfilment 
of his heart’s desires. We women can 
wait. Some of us enjoy the idea of 
waiting even for the wreaths and 
crosses, though we shall not be there 

[47] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


to see them. The morbid picturesque- 
ness of the idea appeals to us; but a 
man wants nothing for his cold clay 
save six feet of honest earth. His needs 
are stronger, simpler, more intense 
than ours. And what he needs, he 
needs now. When the battle is over 
and won, he will leave the old suit of 
armor behind and forge ahead to, pas- 
tures new. Stand by him now, in the 
din, the dust, and the heat, with the cup 
of cold water he craves. And oh, re- 
member, the wheels of time go for- 
ward, always ; backward, never. I 
want you to be spared the agony of 
vain regret.” 

The baby’s godmother ceased speak- 
ing and looked up. The lines were 
hard and stern about her mouth and 
eyes, but the eyes themselves were soft 
and infinitely tender. 

[48] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


Flower rose and, stooping, kissed 
her gently. 

“ I wish he had proposed to you,” 
she said ; you would have done better 
for him. But as it was I he wanted, I 
must do my best, and I will go to 
Brighton.” 

Then slowly, with bent head, she left 
the room. 

The baby’s godmother sat lost in 
thought for many minutes. It had cost 
her much to say what she had said, and 
she felt doubtful how long the im- 
pression she had made would endure. 
Each heart must pass through the fur- 
nace for itself. To hear of the refining 
of others, has no lasting effect on the 
heart’s own alloy. 

She knew this, and her thoughts fol- 
lowed Flower anxiously. At length 
she rose, and stood leaning her elbow 

[49] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


upon the mantelpiece and looking long 
at an old miniature of the doctor, 
placed there among Flower’s special 
treasures; but the doctor before Flower 
knew him, the doctor as he was in years 
gone by, when he and the baby’s god- 
mother were faithful chums, and she 
was his trusted confidante and the 
sharer of all his hopes and ambitions. 
So she stood looking into the bright, 
dark eyes of a very young man, a man 
with all the best of life before him, full 
of a noble courage, an unfaltering faith 
in his ideals, an intellect which should 
carry him an)rwhere he willed to go. 
A smile of conscious power curved the 
lips. There was no hint of weariness 
about the keen, clear eyes. 

The baby’s godmother took it up 
and laid it in the palm of her large 
hand. Then she spoke to it softly. 

[50] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


‘‘Oh, Boy!” she said, “oh, Boy! 
I have done my best for you. I would 
always have given you all I had to give. 
But you wanted loveliness and I could 
only give you love. You have the love- 
liness and now you are sighing for the 
love. God send you that, my dear — 
my dear. Oh, Boy! I have done what 
I could.” 

She put the portrait down and 
turned away as the door opened sud- 
denly to admit the doctor’s wife, 
breathless. 

“Jane, such a nuisance! Madame 
Celestine has arrived. I entirely for- 
got the appointment. My gown for 
the next Drawing-room, the final fit- 
ting — oh, such a dream! Come up and 
see, and help and advise. You old dar- 
ling, what a blessing to have you here! 
I never can be firm with Celestine.” 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


The luncheon gong had sounded 
punctually as the clock struck one. 
The baby’s godmother had waited, 
restlessly, ten minutes, and then re- 
ceived a message not to wait, Mrs. 
Brand would be down from the work- 
room shortly. 

Tailor-made, booted, and hatted, 
ready for her journey into Norfolk, 
Jane helped herself to cold chicken 
and salad, and kept her eye on the 
clock, remembering two sharp.” 

“ If she comes down quite ready she 
can do it,” thought the baby’s god- 
mother, and turned her healthy atten- 
tion to apple-tart and custard. 

The door opened and the doctor’s 
wife trailed in, in a teagowq. 

“Dear Jane, I apologize. But I 
knew my absence would not impair 
your appetite, and you should not have 
[52] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

left me until that good creature had 
gone. The restraint of your presence 
removed, she launched out into fresh 
suggestions, and wheedled me into 
having a gown for the Devonshire’s 
big squash, though I had meant to go 
in my Paquin. How beautifully you 
carve, my dear, or did old Stoddart do 
it for you? This fowl looks as if it had 
been handled by a man and an expert. 
Now, I fear, I am going to make it 
look as if it had crossed the road in 
front of a motor-car. What on earth 
are you gazing at? ‘ My pretty 
Jane, my dearest Jane, oh, never look 
so shy!”’ trilled the doctor’s wife. 

Is anything wrong with the cus- 
tard?” 

‘‘Flower! How are you to be 
ready at 2 sharp, when here it is 1.45 
and you in that flimsy teagown?” 

[53] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


“ My dear, I am not going. It is 
always wisest to adhere to first plans. 
I should love to go, but I could not 
possibly be ready now, and I can- 
not feel it right to leave the children 
when nurse — ’’ 

The door opened quickly and the 
doctor came in. 

“ Dearest,” cried Flower, ‘‘ Lunch 
after all? If only I had known you 
were coming I would have saved a 
wing — ” 

“No,” said the doctor, brightly, 
“ no time for lunch to-day, and I 
hardly ought to have come upstairs. 
I have one more patient to see, and 
my hansom is at the door. But I 
wanted to say good-bye, dear, and 
also to say — ” he dropped his voice 
slightly — “ don’t worry about not 
having been able to come. It was 

[54] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


selfish of me to ask it of you, Flower. 
And then I remembered, too, Jeanette 
was going home to-day, so I ran up 
to bid her good-bye, a longer farewell 
than ours.” 

He went round the table and held 
out his hand to the baby’s godmother. 

‘‘ Good-bye, Jeanette. My love to 
all at home. Look us up again when 
you can. And thank you for all your 
loving-kindness to me and mine.” 

The baby’s godmother rose, and 
her hand went firmly home to his. 
Their eyes were almost on. a level as 
they stood together. 

“ Good-bye, Boy,” she said. “ Don’t 
overwork. Rest whenever possible. 
And remember, you and yours are al- 
ways dear to me. Let me do all I 
can.” 

A half-puzzled, half-pleased look 

[55] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


leaped into his eyes at sound of the 
old name. It was many years since 
she had used it. He held her hand 
and looked at her with steady scrutiny 
for a moment. She met his gaze full 
and clear. She had nothing to hide. 

“ Good-bye, dear,” said the doctor, 
then turned to his wife, and hesi- 
tated. 

Good-bye, Flower,” he said, 
rather wistfully. 

Flower objected to any demonstra- 
tion in public. She waved her nap- 
kin. 

“ Good-bye, my lord,” she said, 
“ and while you are gallivanting 
about at Brighton, please remember 
your poor, little domesticated wife 
staying at home to tend house and 
children.” 

The door closed sharply behind the 
[56] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


doctor. The baby’s godmother bent 
over her plate in silence. The doc- 
tor’s wife laughed, moved round the 
table to cut a slice of cake, laughed 
again, rather mirthlessly, then reiter- 
ated all the reasons why it was unrea- 
sonable of Deryck to have asked her 
to go to Brighton, and of Jane to have 
made such a point of her acquiescing, 
concluding with, “ And why do you 
call him ‘Boy’? Such a silly, inap- 
propriate name! And, oh, I wish I 
had gone! I hear his hansom. What 
a hateful world!” 

Eight o’clock in the evening. 

The soft, green curtains were 
drawn in Flower’s boudoir, shutting 
out the chill of the spring night air. 
The electric light, shining through 
water-lilies, gleamed, soft and bright, 

[57] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


from walls and writing-table. Flower 
had turned on every spray, hoping to 
lighten with exterior brightness the 
heavy shadow of disappointment and 
foreboding which had fallen upon 
her heart. 

Since the doctor’s hansom had tin- 
kled rapidly away towards Victoria, 
all had gone wrong with the doctor’s 
wife. 

The baby’s godmother, who had 
had so much to say in the morning, 
became absolutely monosyllabic, and 
conversation languished and died. 

It was a relief to see her depart, 
with her neat, gentlemanly luggage, 
for Liverpool Street Station, and yet 
it seemed desolate without her, and 
the klip-klop of her rapidly receding 
hansom made a second sound to be 
added to the series of knells which 
[58] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


should ring in Flower’s heart that 
day. 

Turning from the hall-door, she 
ran up to the nursery, to find out at 
what hour nurse wished to be free for 
her outing, and found it was to-mor- 
row for which nurse had asked, not 
to-day. Nurse was quite sure she 
had said Wednesday; how could she 
have said Tuesday, when the married 
niece to whom she was going always 
went out to tea on Tuesdays with her 
mother-in-law in Pimlico? But, of 
course, Master Deryck was hammer- 
ing at the time, which may have ac- 
counted for his mamma not rightly 
catching the day. Emma came for- 
ward, a ready witness to the fact that 
nurse had most certainly said Wednes- 
day, and stuck to her guns, in spite of 
Dicky’s quiet little voice asserting 

[59] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


gravely from the position he had 
taken up at his mother’s side, "Tow 
had gone down for the milk.” 

So the doctor’s wife retreated in 
discomfiture and trailed slowly down- 
stairs, facing the fact that the one rea- 
son which had seemed an insuperable 
obstacle to her falling in with her 
husband’s wish and plan, had been a 
mistake; a stupid, careless mistake. 

What would Jane say if she knew? 

The tersely expressed remark with 
which Jane would most likely define 
the situation came into her mind, and 
she smiled a wan little smile, for the 
doctor’s wife possessed ‘‘the saving 
sense of humor.” 

Then she felt more cheerful, rang 
and ordered the motor, and dressed 
for a spin in the park. But every- 
thing spoke of Brighton and the en- 
[6o] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


joyment she might have had with the 
doctor on this lovely day. 

The sun was almost warm, and 
there was a pursuing scent of violets 
in the air. The crocuses were shout- 
ing to the sparrows, and the many-col- 
ored hyacinths pushed their bright 
heads up through the brown earth, 
obedient to the beckoning of the sun- 
shine. The whole park sang of 
springtime, of life and love and joys 
to come. And she longed for him 
beside her, with his keen enjoyment, 
with his quick way of pointing out a 
fresh beauty which she might other- 
wise have overlooked, with his knack 
of making you feel that you were 
alive, and living every minute to the 
full, receiving all it had to give, and, 
above all, with the ever-kindling ado- 
ration of his love wrapping her round 

[6i] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


and making her feel herself to be 
good and beautiful and worthy. 

This afternoon she sadly needed re- 
instating in her own esteem. She 
knew she was being unjust to herself, 
but she felt selfish and inadequate and 
unworthy of him and of his love. It 
was Jane who had given her this un- 
comfortable feeling. It was odious 
of Jane to call him “Boy” and to 
pretend to understand his needs bet- 
ter than she, his own wife, did. Oh, 
if only she had gone to Brighton! If 
only she had gone! But it was not 
her fault that she had been unable to 
fall in with the plan at so short notice. 
Deryck himself had admitted that it 
was he who was to blame, and she was 
not to worry. It was all very well for 
men to tell poor, anxious women not 
to worry. He might have known she 
[62] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

would be wondering all the rest of the 
day how he was faring at Brighton, 
whether he was too tired to eat and 
too tired to sleep. If only horrid old 
celebrities would die at once when 
they fell ill, instead of causing all this 
fuss and trouble. ... It would be a 
great pity to be too tired to eat at the 
Metropole, where the table d’hote 
dinner was so perfect. ... It was 
trying of Deryck to rush off with only 
a packet of sandwiches in his bag, 
when, by taking five minutes more 
from his tiresome patients, he might 
have had the wing of a chicken and 
some salad. . . . What a good lunch 
Jane had made! If she had really 
been so troubled at the thought of 
Deryck going off alone she would 
hardly have hurried into the dining- 
room the moment the gong sounded 
[63] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

and given her mind so completely to 
her food. Jane was the sort of per- 
son who enjoyed putting other people 
in the wrong. So different to Deryck, 
who saw at once where the blame 
really belonged and never laid it upon 
others. Which was it most right to 
believe — Deryck or Jane? Deryck, 
of course. Then why feel condemned 
any longer? . . . How lovely it 
would have been at Brighton! A 
selfish person would have gone at 
once and not have been so consider- 
ate for tiresome old nurse with her 
changeable plans. People who change 
their plans without any adequate rea- 
son do not deserve much considera- 
tion. If she had been a less devoted 
mother — How sweet it was of Dicky 
to point out that Emma had gone 
down for the milk! So like Deryck, 
[64] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


who never would allow her to be un- 
justly put in the wrong. It was won- 
derful to be so loved by two such na- 
tures, father and son. A woman who 
was selfish or unworthy could never 
have drawn out such love. Jane was 
not in the least likely ever to marry. 
How disgusting of her to speak so ap- 
provingly of married women who ran 
after Deryck. Perhaps, after all, one 
of those creatures would happen to be 
at the Metropole this evening and 
would insist upon dining with him at 
a table for two. 

Another wan little smile flitted 
across Flower’s face. The dimple 
the doctor loved peeped out. She 
knew so exactly how he would feel 
and look, and how he would describe 
the whole occurrence to her after- 
wards, giving her unconsciously the 
[65] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


gratifying certainty that in her ab- 
sence no other woman could by any 
possibility usurp her place. 

The gliding motion of the car made 
her drowsy. She leaned back with 
closed eyes, enjoying the sensation of 
speeding forward, trusting to the deft 
vigilance of her chauffeur, not even 
seeing for herself the possible colli- 
sions avoided, the rapid half-turn 
which meant gliding from danger into 
safety. 

The roar of traffic on the distant 
thoroughfare sounded like the break- 
ing of the waves on the beach at 
Brighton. She fancied herself driv- 
ing along the King’s Road, alight- 
ing at the Metropole and meeting 
Deryck, to whom she would say, 
‘‘Dearest, I came after all.” 

The sudden slowing of the car 
[ 66 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

aroused her. They were held up for 
a moment in a cross-stream of car- 
riages near the main gate. She 
opened her eyes and they fell upon a 
man and wpman close by, sitting side 
by side in a victoria. The woman 
had a spray of white roses on her 
muff. Her companion bent towards 
her with a whispered word. She in- 
stantly detached a milk-white bud 
from the rest and handed it to him. 
Her look of blissful, submissive love 
as she did this, reached to the motor 
as an enlightening beam. The man 
took the rose and fastened it carefully 
in his button-hole without any ex- 
pressed thanks, but, as he leaned back 
in the carriage beside her, his look of 
restful and masterful possession of 
herself and all she possessed seemed 
fully to content the woman. Her 
[67] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


eyes and lips smiled tenderly, and lift- 
ing the white roses she laid them for a 
moment against her cheek. 

“ Home,” said the doctor’s wife, 
suddenly; and as the car turned obe- 
diently and sped out at the gate the 
voice of the baby’s godmother seemed 
to pursue her relentlessly: Give 

Deryck his white rose while he asks 
it of you. A man requires the instant 
fulfilment of his hearfs desires. 
When he needs a thing, he needs it 
NOW!” 

Ah, Jeanette, you were very faith- 
ful, and you did what you could. 

Arrived at home, the doctor’s wife 
had tea in company with one or two 
choice spirits who dropped in to dis- 
cuss the reception at Myra Ingleby’s 
and the coming big affair at the Dev- 
[ 68 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


onshire’s, and much interest was 
aroused by the fact that the doctor’s 
wife was not going in her Paquin, 
but was to have an absolutely new cre- 
ation by that clever old dear, Celes- 
tine. 

After all, Jane, with her attention 
fixed upon apple-tart and her mind so 
completely, blankly unsympathetic, 
was enough to depress anybody. 
Deryck would be the first to be in- 
dignant, if he knew what Jane had 
said. 

Her visitors gone, she rang for the 
children, and the promised game of 
menagerie began, though their small 
minds had leaped to something else, 
which they assured her they would 
like much better. But she insisted on 
the menagerie, rapidly pulling all the 
stuffed animals out of the toy cup- 
[69] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


board and hurrying them into the 
middle of the room. She felt unable 
to endure that no part of the pro- 
gramme she had explained to Deryck 
should take place, and for many years 
to come the children used to speak be- 
tween themselves of menageries as 
“ mother’s favorite game.” 

All went well for a time. She en- 
joyed sitting on the soft carpet, with 
Blossom rolling over her, a creamy 
billow of cashmere and lace, and 
small Deryck in his black velvet suit, 
with his neat little black silk legs and 
buckled shoes, gravely marshalling 
the animals and explaining the mental 
condition of each, their relation to 
one another, and their past and pres- 
ent experiences. 

But by and by he began asking 
awkward questions about Noah’s Ark 
[70] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


and would not be put off with evasive 
answers. The doctor’s wife felt help- 
less. She knew little of animals, less 
of ships, and nothing whatever of an- 
cient preachers of righteousness. A 
complete and comprehensive knowl- 
edge of all three would have been re- 
quired to have satisfactorily answered 
Dicky’s questions. So, harassed and 
worried, she entrenched herself has- 
tily in what appeared to be an impreg- 
nable position. 

“ My dear little boy, how can I pos- 
sibly tell? I was not there/* 

Deryck, the younger, was arrang- 
ing that a bear who could only sit — 
who had been born sitting and stif- 
fened in that position — should ride, in 
the procession, on the wide back of an 
elephant. 

But he stopped the procession at 

[71 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


this, set the bear down, and came and 
stood opposite his mother, surveying 
her gravely, with his hands deep in 
the pockets of his velvet breeches. 
She sat on the floor beside the sofa, 
her lovely head thrown back against 
a cushion, looking up at him with eyes 
full of love and almost wistful tender- 
ness. 

His little face at first was rather 
hard and stern, but, as he looked 
at her, it softened. Her ignorance 
of Noah’s domestic arrangements 
seemed to matter less. She was so- 
lovely that it seemed unreasonable to 
expect her to be other things! 

You are not much use at answer- 
ing questions, darling, are you?” he 
said gravely. I must let the point 
stand over until father comes home. 
You see, you never seem to know 
[72] 



YOU ARE NOT MUCH USE AT ANSWERING QUESTIONS 
DARLING, ARE YOU ? ” 




THE WHEELS OF TIME 


about anything you have not done 
yourself.” 

Dicky, you are not kind to poor 
mummie,” protested Flower, pite- 
ously. ^‘No one could possibly know 
what Noah did to the animals in the 
Ark when the large ones trod upon 
the small ones, or how the elephant 
was kept from stepping on the grass- 
hopper.” 

^‘An average person would know,” 
Dicky insisted coldly. 

“Dicky, you are most unkind! You 
imply that I am stupid.” 

“ I am afraid you are, darling,” 
said the quiet little voice, and then, in 
a sudden burst of admiration, “ But 
you are much too lovely for it to mat- 
ter.” And the miniature edition of 
the doctor fell upon her and clasped 
her in his arms. 


[73] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


‘‘We must say our text to you, 
mother, as father is away,” Dicky re- 
marked a few minutes later, when 
bedtime came. 

Flower assented without enthusi- 
asm. She did not approve of nurse’s 
plan of teaching the children a daily 
text, and always wondered why 
Deryck encouraged it. But she did 
not wish again to present herself to 
her little son’s mind in a disappointing 
light. 

Dicky arranged Baby Blossom “ in 
a row” with himself. She imme- 
diately began to say, “Do it — do it!” 
and had to be sternly hushed by her 
brother. Then, with his hands be- 
hind him and his head erect, Dicky 
announced impressively: 

“Jesus said: ‘If you shall ask 
anythink in my name, I will ’ — now, 
baby-” 


[74] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


it!” chirped Baby Blossom. 

Very nice,” commented Flower, 
perfunctorily. 

Baby Blossom, her duty done, took 
a header into the soft sofa-cushion, 
shrieking with delight and waving 
her plump little legs in the air. 
Deryck, though deserted, kept his 
place in the row.” He had not yet 
finished with the text. 

‘‘Do you consider it true, mother?” 
he questioned, and his dark eyes 
searched her face. 

“Why — well — yes, dear, I suppose 
so,” answered Flower, vaguely. 
“Baby, take care! You will break 
your neck!” 

“What does ‘anythink’ mean?” in- 
quired Dicky. 

“ You should not say ‘ anythink V it is 
2iny thing/* 

“ It is 2inythink in nurse’s Bible,” 

[75] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


asserted Dicky, and I suppose it 
means all that comes into your head. 
Anything you can think of.” 

I believe,” said Flower, with a 
sudden inspiration, that it merely 
refers to the religious experience of 
the apostles.” 

“ Goodness,” said Dicky, in nurse’s 
best manner when arguing with 
Marsdon, “then why don’t it say so? ” 
Adding, almost immediately, in his 
own quiet, rather sad, little voice, 
“And what good is it to us then, 
mummie? ” 

“ None whatever,” replied Flower, 
with decision, rising from the floor 
and hugging baby. She felt she was 
scoring now and reasserting her men- 
tal superiority. “ That is why I ob- 
ject to people teaching such words to 
children,” she remarked from among 
Blossom’s curls. 


[76] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


The small Deryck was silent. He 
stood very erect and gave a sharp pull 
to the front of his little white waist- 
coat, swallowing hard, as if something 
had hurt him. Flower felt slightly 
uncomfortable at being thus suddenly 
left with the last word. Dicky was 
so very masculine, and she was not at 
all sure of her own theology. 

The silence, growing strained, was 
relieved by the advent of nurse, who 
carried off Baby Blossom and bade 
Dicky make haste and say good-night 
to his mamma and come along. He 
turned to her gravely. “Good-night, 
mother,” he said. 

Flower embraced him effusively 
and suggested a visit to the Zoo, now 
the warm weather was coming. 
Dicky allowed himself to be kissed, 
but ignored the remark about the 
Zoo. 


[77] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


When he reached the door he turned 
and looked back bravely. 

‘‘ Mother,” he said, ‘‘ I don’t know 
about the ’postles, but I think I ought 
to tell you that I have made that text 
my hown. Nurse says you can always 
make a text your hown if it meets 
your need. I feel this meets my 
need!” 

He held his head bravely, though 
flinching a little, as if dreading his 
mother’s scorn or laughter. 

But Flower did not laugh. She 
looked across the room at the brave 
little figure, in blank astonishment. 
The sincerity of his convictions 
reached and convinced her. But 
what an ignorant old Puritan nurse 
must be! At last she smiled at Dicky, 
reassuringly. 

‘‘That may be true, darling. But 
[78] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


my dear little boy, you haven’t any 
‘needs.’ ” 

“ Oh, haven’t I ! ” said Dicky, as 
one who would say, “That is all you 
know!” Then taking hold of the 
outer handle he drew the door slowly 
behind him, turning, before it quite 
closed, to fling back over his shoulder, 
“ I need an entirely new inside to my 
rabbit.” 

Left alone another remark of 
Dicky’s returned to Flower’s mind 
and added to her despondency. 

“You never seem to know about 
anything you have not done yourself,” 
her little son had said, and this asser- 
tion let in a sudden light of revelation 
upon her whole mental standpoint. 
How true it was, how sickeningly, 
horribly true! 

What did she know of Deryck’s 

[79] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


work? Of all the people who came 
and went in the rooms below? Of 
the lectures he gave, or the essays he 
wrote, eagerly attended, eagerly read 
by hundreds? What share had she in 
the great interests of her husband’s 
life? Jane had tried to speak of them 
more than once, and she had changed 
the subject. 

And sitting there, deeply convicted 
by the grave little voice of her own 
tiny boy, she remembered times when 
Deryck had tried to talk to her of 
these questions so near his heart — of 
the methods he had thought out for 
curing diseased or weakened wills, for 
restoring shattered nerves and unbal- 
anced brains, for giving a new lease 
of sane and healthy life to those who 
now walked fettered in the valley of a 
shadow worse than death. And she 


[8o] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


had taken no interest, had not tried 
to understand, had listened without 
hearing, and, at the first opportunity, 
talked of her own trivial doings. Was 
not an intelligent sympathy with his 
work, one of the white roses for which 
Deryck well might ask? 

Slowly she passed to her bedroom 
and dressed for the evening’s func- 
tion, wishing all the while that she 
need not go, and partook of an early 
dinner alone, with her thoughts far 
away. Now it was eight o’clock, and 
she sat in her boudoir waiting until it 
should be time to be whirled through 
the noisy, lighted streets, to join the 
gay throng at Myra’s crush. 

Oh, how different to have walked 
on the pier with him, nestling into her 
furs, enjoying the cold night air and 
salty smell of brine and seaweed! 

[8i] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


And then to have returned to their 
warm, bright room, Deryck, pleased 
as any schoolboy, to have her away 
without her maid, amusing her by his 
delightful attempts to take Marsdon’s 
place and assist at her toilet. 

The fire, which had received so 
much unconscious attention from the 
baby’s godmother that morning, fell 
together in the grate, signifying its 
need of coal. The doctor’s wife rose 
and ministered to it, then knelt on the 
hearthrug and watched the brighten- 
ing flame. Her mind had gone for- 
ward in its contemplation of that 
evening which might have been. Her 
eyes were soft and tender. Her sweet 
lips parted gently. Her hair gleamed 
golden in the firelight. 

How wonderful was his love! 
Jane was right when she said, ‘‘He 
[82] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


will always be a boy where he loves. 
He is so young in heart, so eternally, 
passionately young.” How did Jane 
guess it? Only she, his wife, could 
know it to be true. 

Seven years of married life had 
only added to the wonder and ro- 
mance of Deryck’s love. Each time 
he took her away with him was like a 
fresh honeymoon, more perfect than 
the last. Why did she forget when 
she came home, how sweet it was to be 
away with him? Why had she de- 
frauded herself and him of the per- 
fect hours which might have been 
theirs this day? Why had she failed 
him in his time of need? 

Oh, selfish! shallow! self-absorbed! 
Loving to be loved, not rising to the 
joy of loving. Taking his care and 
thought and adoration as her due, giv- 
[83] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


ing no tender service in return. She 
bowed her head upon her arms. 

‘‘Oh, Boy,” she said, “not Jane’s, 
but mine! Oh, Boy, it shall be dif- 
ferent! You will come back to find a 
wife who understands, a wife whose 
hands are filled with roses white, 
ready to give them now.” 

The doorbell sounded. She rose 
and wrapped her cloak about her. 
She had little inclination for Myra’s 
party, but he would be thinking of her 
there, and anywhere would do to pass 
the hours till his return. 

Stoddart brought in a telegram, re- 
tired softly, and closed the door. She 
looked at it with a sudden thrill of 
comprehending joy. A good-night 
message from Deryck? He nearly 
always sent her one. Ah, if she had 
[84] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


remembered to do the same for him! 
She glanced at the clock. Twenty 
minutes past eight. Too late to get 
one through. 

She slipped off her cloak and sank 
into an easy-chair, holding the un- 
opened message in her hand. She 
wished to realize to the full the new- 
ness of what it meant to receive words 
from him. Then, when her heart 
was ready, she opened the orange en- 
velope gently and drew out the folded 
paper. 

It seemed a long message. She 
read it through once. She read it 
through again. Then she sat quite 
still and listened to the ticking of the 
clock. Then she looked at it again 
and heard a frightened voice, not un- 
like her own, reading it aloud: 

[85] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


From the Commissioner of Police, 
Brighton, 

Regret to announce Dr, Deryck 
Brand knocked down by motor-car 
corner King^s Road, Killed instantly. 
Wire instructions. 

She rose and walked to the door. It 
opened as she reached it, and Stod- 
dart stood there saying the brougham 
waited. She waved him aside. 

I shall not want it to-night, thank 
you.” 

Passing into her room, she closed the 
door. The electric light over her dress- 
ing-table shone brightly. She switched 
it off. Then, in the utter darkness, she 
felt her way to the empty bed, his bed 
and hers, laid down the telegram upon 
it, and stood quite still. 

O God,” she whispered, help 

[ 86 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 

me to think. ... I am not clever. 
My little boy thinks me stupid, and 
my big boy thinks me lovely; but 
Thou knowest my loveliness seems to 
me but filthy rags. But now, in my 
hour of need, oh, merciful God, let 
me think! There is something I 
want to remember. Ah 1 ” she almost 
shrieked, “the wheels of time! the 
wheels of time! Never move back- 
wards, they say; always forwards — 
always forwards. And that is why it 
is too late. O God, too late, too late! 
My roses ready — ready for him; but 
too late. . . . What did the children 
say: ‘ If ye shall ask anything in my 
name, I will do it.’ And Dicky says 
anything means anything we need. 
God in heaven ! I need the wheels of 
time to move back six hours, that I 
may go with him.” 

[87] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


She flung herself upon her knees 
beside the bed. 

‘‘O God, O God, in Jesus’ name, 
put back the wheels of time, that I 
may go with him!” 

She shrieked, then crammed the 
quilt into her mouth, lest they should 
hear and find her there. 

“O God, O God — in Jesus’ name 
— the wheels of time — hack — back — 
that I may go with him!” 

She tore down her lovely hair and 
wound it round her hands. The pain 
kept her from swooning, helped her 
to think. 

O God in heaven, in Jesus’ name 
— put back the wheels of time — that 
I may go with him. If ye shall ask 
anything — ‘ anything ’ means any- 

thing, Dicky; not mere religious ex- 
periences, but anything we want. O 
[ 88 ] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


God, I want another chancel Back 
— back — that I may go with him!” 

Then she knelt very still, deathly 
still, while her heart thundered in her 
ears and the room rocked to and fro. 
But she clung to the bedclothes and 
knelt on. 

The street door banged. She heard 
a step come up the stairs. 

She cried again: God, O God 

— the wheels of time — back — back!” 

The door opened and closed. 
Someone stood just within, breathing 
quickly, listening intently. 

Then the doctor’s voice said: In 

the dark, my darling? Why, what is 
the matter?” And the room flashed 
into light. 

O God,” she said, ‘‘O God! The 
wheels of time — turned back — that I 
— may go — with him!” 

[89] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


His arms were round her, he had 
lifted her bodily and placed her on 
the bed. His face was shocked and 
startled. He unwound the lovely 
hair from the clenched hands and 
noted how much of it fell away in 
scattered wisps to the floor. He 
wiped the blood from those sweet lips, 
bitten through. Then he knelt down, 
gathered her to his heart, and spoke 
very gently. 

^‘Flower, my Flower! Something 
has frightened you. You have had a 
shock. But it is all right, now, my 
heart’s dearest. I have come back to 
you. Listen, beloved. I was so 
pleased, because I got through the 
consultation earlier than I thought, and 
found, if I made a dash for it, I could 
just catch the fast train up. I dined 
on board — listen. Flower! Don’t keep 
[90] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


on whispering, child. Never mind 
the wheels of time. Listen to me! I 
meant to hurry home and dress, and 
give you a surprise by turning up at 
Myra’s. But then I felt too chilled, 
and determined I must stay at home 
and have a brew of gruel. Some 
other chap, in a hurry — a doctor who 
left before me — went off with my 
overcoat, and I had to turn out with- 
out one. No time to make inquiries. 
Such a cold fellow has come back to 
his little girl. Won’t she see about 
warming him?” 

The gay voice ceased. The set 
face bent over her. The quick pro- 
fessional eye noted each rigid muscle 
of that poor agonized face. He laid 
his lips on hers, with one broken sob. 

‘‘Oh, my beloved! For God’s 
sake—” 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


Then Flower lifted up her hand 
and pointed to the foot of the bed. He 
looked and saw the open telegram. 
Reaching with one long arm, he took 
it up and read it. 

“Good heavens!” he said. “Run 
down and killed! The poor chap 
who took my coat. My pocketbook 
was in it, and a bundle of letters.” 
Then he bent over his wife once more, 
and whispered in a tone of awed won- 
der: 

“Oh, Flower! You cared like 
this?^^ 

And the wonder in his voice, the al- 
most boyish surprise, saved Flower. 

She turned her face to his breast 
and wept and wept; wept herself to 
calmness, and sobbed herself back 
into the haven of his love, the earthly 
Paradise of her heart’s peace. 

[92] 



"OH, FLOWER! YOU CARED LIKE THIS?” 



THE WHEELS OF TIME 


When at last she found speech pos- 
sible, she said, “ If I had gone — ” 

“ Hush, my perfect one,” the doc- 
tor said. You were quite right.” 

But she laid her hand over his 
mouth, with a swift, silencing gesture, 
then took his hand and kissed it, with 
infinite humility and tenderness. 

Deryck,” she said, it is your love 
which has been perfect. I have been 
quite wrong. But God in His infi- 
nite mercy has heard my prayer and 
given me another chance. Oh, my 
beloved, I have but a poor white rose 
to offer you — a crushed and faded 
thing; but it is all your own. Give 
me another chance — oh, Deryck — a 
chance to serve. It is all I ask, it is 
all I want — to serve; because now, in- 
deed, I truly love.” 

Then the doctor knew that at last 


[93] 


THE WHEELS OF TIME 


life held for him all that his heart had 
craved through hungry years. 

‘‘ Mary,” he said, “ oh, Mary!” 

He dropped his head upon her 
breast, in sudden silence, and her 
white hands, like roses, clasped it 
softly, and lay upon the darkness of his 
hair. 


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